London has been battered by 50mph winds that have felled trees and caused travel chaos. Powerful gusts swept across the capital as the Met Office issued a yellow "be aware" weather alert for most of the country.

Families of the Germanwings crash victims may have to wait up to four months for their remains to be identified.

R.I.P.D. 3D - film review

Ryan Reynolds's eyes are a roaring void and his banter lacks bite. But who wouldn’t be dispirited by this script, which (when not plagiarising Men in Black) plays out like an episode of Doctor Who aimed at dumb, fascistic teens?

Do you see what they did there? Universal's $130 million, comic-strip-inspired blockbuster revolves around a police department peopled by ghosts. Nice title, shame about the film.

Nick (Ryan Reynolds) is a Boston cop who, in a moment of weakness, steals some gold from a crime scene, egged on by his partner Hayes (Kevin Bacon). When Nick decides to come clean, things get complicated and, after being shot dead, he finds himself saddled with a new job and a new partner, 18th-century sheriff Roy Pulsifer (Jeff Bridges). To atone for their own crimes on Earth, the duo must track down and eliminate errant ghosts — aka "deados" — who've found a way to "pass" in the city.

Reynolds is a brilliant actor who is now known for a) marrying and divorcing Scarlett Johansson; b) starring in flops (Green Lantern); and c) doing ads (you may have seen him smirking in commercials for Hugo Boss). Basically, the man’s not in a good place. His eyes are a roaring void and his banter lacks bite.

But who wouldn’t be dispirited by this script, which (when not plagiarising Men in Black) plays out like an episode of Doctor Who aimed at dumb, fascistic teens? One example of a running gag: thanks to supernatural interference, Nick and Roy — when patrolling the streets of Boston — resemble a wizened Chinese man and a busty blonde. We’re invited to snicker at the old codger — and lust, in slo-mo, over the hot chick — not just once, twice, thrice or even four times. Put it this way: for director Robert Schwentke, the joke never gets old.

The CGI isn’t much better. When the deados revert to their monstrous selves they look like the hero of Wreck-It Ralph. Limbo, meanwhile, is as tacky as hell. It’s the nightmare scenario — expensive visuals that you can’t believe cost more than a penny.

Bridges (gorgeous and effortlessly leftfield) has saved many a dire film. He tries to hold the fort but it just can’t be done. I should point out, though, that this farce is currently stinking it up at the US box office (R.I.P.D. made $12.8 million in its opening week). A cinematic crime is being punished. Maybe there is a God, after all...